


deft hands, fine tools

by setoso



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2019 CS Autumn Classic International, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-11-02 06:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setoso/pseuds/setoso
Summary: Lowering his eyes, Yuzuru pushes out his bottom lip. “You stole the sal. My sal.”





	deft hands, fine tools

**Author's Note:**

> written on a whim at 2am to deal with the aftermath of aci and javi showing up out of nowhere and that sal.
> 
> thanks to capra for the beta ♥
> 
> **Please don't repost or share my work in any way or form!**

  
  
  


“They say it’s your fault.”

The soft mumble comes as enough of a surprise that Javier has to pull back from their kiss. Yuzuru leans forward, unconsciously chasing the warmth of Javier’s mouth, before he steadies himself, goes still; a habit that Javier finds both frustrating yet strangely endearing. Yuzuru’s fingers dig into Javier’s hair, sliding down the back of his neck; an anchor.

“What? What did I do?” Recollections from last night flood his mind, of his quiet dinner with Tracy. There were no messages waiting for him on his phone and he made sure to keep his distance, knowing that Yuzuru valued his concentration while competing. 

Lowering his eyes, Yuzuru pushes out his bottom lip. “You stole the sal. My sal.”

Blinking in confusion in the near-dark hotel room, it takes a couple seconds for Javier to register the meaning behind the words, to remember the handful of internet comments. He can’t help the snort that escapes him, first at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement and then at Yuzuru’s scandalized look.

“I don’t even have my skates with me.” He could have gone with, _it’s not stealing if it was mine in the first place_, but something stops him from doing so.

It’s Yuzuru’s turn to huff, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead he leans even closer, pushing his face against Javier’s throat, hiding. He feels smaller this way, somehow, despite them being the same height and despite the fact that Javier’s still pushed against the closed door.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here, so it’s enough to steal. Just like last time.”

There’s no whine to his voice but Javier knows the memory from the last world championship still stings.

“You don’t want me here?” he asks, slowly. 

Yuzuru stiffens, his breath catching. He pulls back a little, just enough to be able to look at Javier properly, but his body is still stuck to his. Javier can easily spot the line forming on Yuzuru’s forehead, the violent bobbing of his adam’s apple as he swallows.

“Why you ask that? You know I always want.” The lighting in the room is not strong enough, but this close everything feels magnified. Whatever’s hiding in the depth of Yuzuru’s eyes, it feels warm and heavy. A little scared, maybe.

“Even if it means I steal your sal away?” Javier offers him a kind smile. It’s late and Yuzuru is tired. There’s no need to get serious over something like this, not now. Not when Yuzuru’s just won, when his hair is still slicked up and the fading adrenaline still sticks to his bones, needing a different kind of release.

He doesn’t get a verbal answer, but Yuzuru kisses him again. There’s a newfound desperation in the hasty pull of his hands, his fingers catching on Javier’s clothes. He’s always been a slightly stiff kisser, not really managing to coordinate himself the way he does on the ice. It usually takes some work and time to get him to unwind. It’s a tricky thing, getting Yuzuru’s mind to quiet down, making his body loosen up enough for this to truly feel like a victory.

It’s late, but Javier’s got time. He doesn’t have much experience, barely over a year since last summer’s ice shows, when this whole thing started, but he’s got time.

Yuzuru pulls away again, his lips puffed up as he deliberately lets his legs buckle, falling on his knees. Javier’s breath gets stuck in his throat at the first pull on his belt. Yuzuru’s got deft fingers, even if sometimes they shake while he’s trying to unbutton Javier’s clothes, the delicious flush on his face spreading across the bridge of his nose, coloring his cheeks. More than once Javier’s found himself with laughter bubbling in his throat, the gentle kind that bursts forth from within after years and years of accumulated affection for this strange and wonderful man, but Yuzuru’s always so serious when they fuck, as if it’s another thing he’s getting scored at, so Javier bites down the chuckles and strokes at Yuzuru’s cheeks until he can at least get a smile out of him.

Yuzuru’s not smiling now as he opens his mouth to take him deep, dark eyes fluttering almost shut in concentration. A shiver runs down Javier’s back at the sudden burst of arousal, at how easy it is to fall back into this even after so long. He threads his fingers, as gently as he can, into Yuzuru’s hair, messing it up from its carefully constructed updo. It’s not long before he unconsciously snaps his hips forward, taking a certain amount of satisfaction at the way it makes Yuzuru’s eyes shoot open.

Javier might have time, but he’s running low on patience.

“On the bed,” he whispers, because he doesn’t want to disturb the silence that’s settled around them. Yuzuru hums softly in agreement, springing up from the floor as if he hasn’t spent any time on the rink today. He lets Javi undress him, the clothes peeling from his skin like petals, leaving him bare and shivering slightly, the single bud of a flower in winter. Javier makes quick work of his own clothes. The sight of Yuzuru sprawled out on the sheets is irresistible. 

They keep kissing for a while, moving against each other, breaths mingling, until Javier slots them together, pushing into the tight space between Yuzuru’s thighs. The skin there is smooth and soft, slippery from the lube that Yuzuru pushed into Javier’s hands. Javier lines them up carefully, his movements steady. He could angle his hips higher, demand for something more, and Yuzuru would let him, he knows that. But he can feel the slight trembling of the body in his arms, the exhaustion and desperation coiled up until it must be almost painful. So Javier noses into the back of Yuzuru’s neck instead, tasting the beads of sweat there, letting his teeth graze the little freckles scattered across his pale shoulders. Yuzuru whines softly in response, bucking into his own hand. Javier’s fist closes around his slender fingers, dictating a harsher rhythm.

“Javi.” It comes out in a stuttered breath and Javier can only hold him, tight and close, as his body finally loosens up, his limbs suddenly heavy in his newfound bliss. Yuzuru’s rarely so pliant like this, so Javier soaks it up eagerly, his own movements getting rushed, his heart beating loudly enough in his chest that he’s scared the whole hotel floor can hear it.

“Yuzu, Yuzu,” he repeats that name, a mantra on his starving lips. Yuzuru finally spares him a shaky smile over his shoulder and Javier loses it, drowning in his own panting breath.

They stay like that, warm and sticky where they touch; sated. Yuzuru will want a shower before he sleeps, but Javier refuses to let go yet, stroking gently at his hip, around his stomach, up across his chest. His eyelids are heavy, but he’s missed this, being so close and intimate.

“Did you give it back?” Yuzuru’s voice has a certain ring to it that Javier used to be unable to decipher before, back when they still pretended that the tension between them was just because of their rivalry and nothing more. It’s not the kind of blatant teasing he sometimes graces the media with, nor the outright joking tone he has when he’s talking to others in the rink. It’s something weirdly in between, something special; something just for Javier’s ears.

He decides to play along. “You ask a thief if he plans on returning stolen goods?”

The response is immediate, Yuzuru turning in his arms, his brows scrunched up but his lips curved.

“Yes. Even a thief can be nice.”

“Well, I don’t have a choice, then, do I?”

“No. You don’t.” Yuzuru’s hand is so warm when it touches Javier’s cheek, his delicate fingers rubbing against the stubble. “You don’t,” he repeats, his voice catching a little before he presses his face into Javier’s neck, exhaling.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> yes, _deft hands, fine tools_ is the thief perk from da:i, ha
> 
> I'm at [@ssetoso](https://twitter.com/ssetoso)!


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